For the longest time we have been redefining what words mean. We have been watering down and nullifying words that anger, challenge, or irritate us, and we have been twisting others to make them suit our preconceived notions or ideas.
It’s gotten so bad that if anyone, perchance a baker refused to make a cake depicting two men holding hands while a astride phallic shaped rocket, it was labeled a hate crime; something heretofore unseen and unheard of.
Unfortunately, less than a day ago we saw the true definition of a hate crime, and it had nothing to do with refusing to validate a certain lifestyle, or insisting that certain practices are sinful in the sight of God.
Fifty people are dead. They will never see another sunrise, they will never watch another sunset, and every hope and dream they had died along with them. A man of Muslim persuasion walked into a place where these individuals congregated and simply opened fire. It wasn’t a Methodist, it wasn’t a Southern Baptist, it wasn’t even one of those intolerant Pentecostals that did this heinous thing. It was a twenty-nine-year-old Muslim man.